From Flickers to Blazes: Chronicles of the Flame
by roux.fantasia
Summary: Snippets of Ace's life after joining Whitebeard's crew. How he went from brat to a division commander... And how he found a family. Spoilers in case you haven't read/ watched the Marineford arc.
1. At the Beginning, prompt: cute

Title: 1. At the Beginning

Written for 30_onepiece (though I'm actually still waiting for official approval for this claim...), Set 7- Claim #18 cute, 839 Words, Rating T (Just to be safe!)

Disclaimer: Had I owned one piece, a certain fire-wielder would have appeared much more (as would Whitebeard's crew) and some rather upsetting events would never have happened to him. Well, that's what fanfiction is for I guess- _Fiction_ written by slightly (over)obsessive fans to fulfill our wonderful fantasies.

Author's note: This is the first post of my writings after a _very _long hiatus. I am a little rusty. I am also trying to force myself to write more consistently though I might not always have the inspiration. Thus, this might not be the smoothest/ best of writings. I would highly appreciate constructive critics as I am doing my best to improve.

This will theoretically be a series of roughly chronological order, giving brief insights into Ace's life after joining Whitebeard's crew. It'll be 'AU' where I fill in the gaps left by the mangaka and will diverge from the manga after the Marineford arc. Beyond that… Hope you enjoy the story!

This shot occurs just after Ace is defeated after challenging Whitebeard and is sulking abroad the ship.

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><p>The problem with being too strong was that sometimes, a person could become overconfident. And so it occurred that on one of those dull afternoon when there was absolutely nothing whatsoever to be done on the Moby Dick, two of Whitebeard's commanders chatted casually in a corner, unaware that they were being carefully observed.<p>

"Isn't he cute?" The joker of the ship, needless to say, was the one to start this latest mischief, his mind whirling with ways to create some entertainment.

"Thatch... It's only his fifth day on the ship and he's already just failed his fifteenth assassination attempt this morning. And if he's not getting beaten by pops, he's sulking in some corner. How is he cute in any way?" Marco, First Division Commander of the Whitebeard pirates, slouched lazily against the wall as he listened to his friend's latest inane theory.

"Ah, but isn't it cute how he tries so hard? And the sulking is amusing too. I think it's nice to finally have a little brother on this ship. The kid's barely eighteen and already so ambitious. I think that he'll provide us with a lot of fun!" Thatch smiled, brown eyes sparkling with thoughts of how he could drag Ace into his numerous pranks. The Moby Dick could definitely use another prankster. He has to work fast, though, before Marco get to him and corrupts Ace with his boring responsibility.

The phoenix could only sigh at the thought of his friend's new, troublemaking scheme. "Maa... Why are you my friend again? You're going to get hurt trying to play around with him."

"Aww, Marco. I didn't know you cared! Don't worry. With luck, the puppy will be joining in our fun by tonight." Thatch eyed Marco warily and took some comfort in that Marco appeared to be even more laconic than usual. Just in case, though... "Don't try to interrupt our bonding, Mr. Boring."

"Maa... That would be too troublesome, Thatch."

"Good." Reassured, Thatch carefully picked his way over to Portgas D Ace, eyes never once leaving his prey.

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><p>Unfortunately for the prankster, he was not perceptive enough to see the blossoming humour gleam in Marco's eyes. "I wouldn't dream of interrupting your fun. Not when it would lead to more amusement for me."<p>

Portgas D. Ace sat crouched in a corner, emitting the most unwelcoming aura that he could while trying to keep his over-eager flames from sprouting and revealing his dark mood. He was not _sulking_. He was brooding, because it was ridiculous that someone so idiotically strong like Whitebeard could have such stupid subordinates who did not realize that he could hear them gossiping. So what if they were far enough that most people would not be able to hear them? They were still idiots all the same.

Thatch strolled up to him, a placating smile on his face, and Ace directed a blistering glare him. Ace had to forcefully suppress the urge to hiss in warning. Unfortunately for him, he failed to understand how Thatch, having long since gone through the angsty period of youth and having had the chance to tease far too many other teens on the ship to insanity, would have simply found Ace's attitude utterly adorable. As a result, Ace could only bristle as Thatch's smile grew.

"Whatever it is, no. Go away." Ace operated on a pretty simple philosophy in life with regards to idiots. Usually, he simply ignored them. They were beneath his notice, anyway, and would wander off once they got bored when he refused to respond. However, seeing as he was in a particularly dark mood, and since Thatch & Marco had contributed significantly to said mood, he had skipped forward to step two- scare them _the hell_ off. Hence the glare and overall bad attitude.

"Hello, I'm Thatch. Let's be friends." Thatch squatted down before him, undaunted, holding out a hand with his palm up and fingers waving towards him in invitation.

Ace narrowed his eyes.

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><p>"So, what did I tell you?" Marco's usual languid drawl was laced with amusement. He smirked down at Thatch, as his friend lay sprawled across his back on the deck. "Portgas is <em>not<em> cute. And he is definitely trouble."

Ace smirked contently from his spot a slight distance away as he listened in on duo. This was a much more pleasing and acceptable topic than the one before. Clasping his garish orange hat, he smiled. At least beating Thatch, still one of Whitebeard's famed commanders despite his crazy antic, proved that he had not lost his touch. And that he was still strong enough to protect Luffy for now. "Don't worry Luffy. I will be strong by the time you start your journey across the seas. I _will_ find us both a place where we can be free."

Caught up in his memories, Ace did not notice as Thatch and Marco gazed at his soft smile. He did not hear the Thatch's near silent whisper. "See, he _is_ cute. That smile proves it." Nor did he observe Marcos thoughtful nod of agreement.

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><p>AN: Ace would be perhaps 17-18 here (since he left Luffy when he turned 17) so I would think that the guy would still be a bit bratty, even if he is strong enough to assemble a crew. He's probably achieved quite a bit of success to be able to meet Whitebeard so soon so this would be his first big loss in a while- something that he will take a while to accept. In the meantime, he'll probably sulk -excuse me, 'brood'- while he thinks through the loss.<p> 


	2. Mark of a Leader, prompt: music

Title: 2. Mark of a Leader

Written for 30_onepiece (though I'm actually still waiting for official approval for this claim...), Set 7- Claim #5 music, 1,060 Words, Rating T (Just to be safe!)

Disclaimer: I wished I owned One Piece (and many, many other books and anime) but I guess life's unfair. I shall just resort to fanfiction to play with the characters (that I wish were mine) for a while.

Author's note: I noticed that I had quite a few people adding this story to alerts/ favorites but only 1 review (thank you, **Rell**!)… Please do review since feedback is highly helpful and reviews are always encouraging! I need to know where I'm going right/ wrong. Also, anyone could help me with beta work, it would be a great help!

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><p>A series of violent waves crashed against the Moby Dick, rocking the massive ship. Sheets of rain bore down on the men on the deck, so thick that everything seemed veiled by a watery shroud. Rank and petty differences no longer mattered as every man scrambled to secure the ship in a chaotic yet beautiful dance. Voice rang out in syncopation, lines of communication going from lulls to rapid orders as men battled against nature.<p>

Ace worked alongside the former Spades Pirates, gazing at his shivering comrades in concern even as his nimble fingers formed complex knots that would hopefully help them survive this storm. Not for the first time, he felt thankful for his mera mera logia that kept him warm in this freezing storm.

Then, disaster struck.

A particularly vicious wave hit the ship just as Jake, a brash and eager to please child of only 13, leaned over the rails to reach for one of the ropes that had to be tied down. With a gasp of surprise, he tumbled overboard and into the raging sea.

"Fuck!" For the first time since boarding the Moby Dick, the former Spades pirates witnessed the reemergence of their ex-captain's power and charisma. Ace scrambled to secure a rope around his waist even as he shot out a rapid-fire of orders. "Riley, make sure no other damn fool decides to take a dip in the sea! Bear, anchor my rope! I'm haunting you forever if that thing snaps."

Without pausing to think, he dove into the churning waters.

The sea was silent as a grave; a striking contrast with the cacophony of shouts and curses on board the ship. The chilling waters welcomed him in its poisonous embrace, stripping him of his strength each second. He has precisely one minute of mobility. He had strived and nearly drowned innumerable times just to achieve that pathetic allowance. Onyx eyes scanned the dark waters with speed driven by adrenaline. The beats of his heart mercilessly counted down the time to his doom and that of his young friend. Thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…

A tuft of black hair floated past the edge of his vision. Damnit, the brat was a distance away.

Ace struck forward, propelled by leadened limbs and a stubborn will. Twenty seconds, nineteen… A desperate push sent him forward and he fought to secure Jake in his grasp. The boy's panicked struggles threatened to push him away. It took a few precious seconds before he finally had the brat clutched to his chest. Fourteen seconds, thirteen… With black spots dotting his vision, Ace gave his anchor rope two firm tugs with the last of his fading strength. Then, he held grimly on as his old crew hauled them back to safety.

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><p>When they finally hit the deck, Ace was already tipping into unconsciousness. Hands snatched the brat from his grasp –comrades, safe!- and Bear gave him a few vicious pinches to anchor him to the land of the waking. Even as he helped Ace to a stumbling stand, a string of curses on "reckless, <em>idiotic<em> captains" falling from his lips, Riley was shouting out commands to the rest of the Spades. A weak smile tugged at Ace's lips. He had chosen his first mate well. But Riley was not the captain of this ship.

Ace took back command. "Brats! What the hell are you doing?" He ordered, ignoring the fact that he was one of the youngest of the Spades pirates. "You will all suffer if I see one scratch on Mischief after this little drizzle-" Ace froze as he made the customary scan of his ship and saw the Whitebeard pirates at work. Right. They were not on Mischief any longer. For one long moment, the sting of failure was overwhelming. Then the sudden silence of his ex-crew drew him back from the brink.

"Johnny, get the Jake below deck and into something warm. Bear, why the hell is that rope still flagging? We are not losing out to those damn Whitebeards!"

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><p>The storm finally broke hours later. His ex-crew had been ordered into warm clothing below deck andor tossed mercilessly into the hands of Whitebeard's nubile nurses. Ace lay sprawled across his back on the deck and gave in to the welcoming darkness.

Or perhaps not. Riley squatted down companionably beside him. "You know that we don't have to stay on this ship, right?"

"Silence. Sleep. Go 'way." When his ex-first mate only continued to regard him silently, Ace stuck out his tongue at him. Riley always got him into irritatingly serious moods.

"This was going to happen soon anyway," he tossed out flippantly instead.

"You have been doing well. And you're our captain. We _will _leave if you call for it. You are not weak, Ace."

"The Spades pirates would not last long in the New World. 'The flame that burns the brightest dies the fastest' and all that jazz. The crew will do well on this ship."

"And your dream?"

"I'll find my own dream."

"You are an idiot." Riley sent him a resigned glare. "You're going to make me old way before my time if you keep this up." He conveniently ignored Ace's protest that he was in fact a genius, and that Riley was already ancient anyway.

"Come and visit the men soon. We all miss you." Then he ruffled Ace's head, tapped a cylindrical object on the boy's stomach and headed back below deck. "The crow's nest will be empty while they sort through the mess from the storm."

Ace waited till Riley had left before examining the gift. It was a beautifully handcrafted wooden flute. He smiled slightly at the memories that the instrument recalled. Riley had picked it up on one of the island and Ace had been curious enough to 'borrow' it a few times. He should have known that the over-perceptive Riley would have caught him out. He listened to the subtle melody of Whitebeard's men, the weary but satisfied voices as they called out to each other in various tasks. He struggled to his feet with a groan.

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><p>A half hour later, Riley leaned against the foot of the mast leading up to the crow's nest, smiling melancholically. A soft, twisting melody drifted down from above, at times tentative, at others brash. Hopefully, his brat of a captain would discover his heart soon.<p>

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><p>AN: I wondered what kind of captain Ace would have been. If he had been a good captain, why would the Spades pirates have joined Whitebeard without even waiting for him to wake after his loss to Whitebeard? How would they have interacted beforeafter Ace joined Whitebeard officially?

Why did Ace go after Whitebeard so soon after entering the New World. Surely he would have known that he had little chance of winning. What truly drives him? Acceptance? Surely he would have found that and love with Luffy, Sabo and his Spades pirates crew…

I'm trying to explore a few of these questions here.


	3. The Strongest Pirate, prompt: etiquette

Title: 3. An Encounter with the Strongest Pirate Alive

Written for 30_onepiece (though I'm actually still waiting for official approval for this claim...), Set 7- Claim #15 etiquette, 2,001 Words, Rating T (Just to be safe!)

Disclaimer: One Piece is not mine. -SIGH-

Author's note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters! Hope you enjoy this next post! I realized that since these ficlets are supposed to be in roughly chronological order, I should place them on a rough timeline. So- Chapter 1 occurs on Ace's 5th day on board Moby Dick and chapter 2 occurs on his 7th day. Explanations (for anyone interested) below:

I think that Ace would have to be pretty desperate to get strong _fast _to have challenged Whitebeard (and raced to the New World) when he had only sailed for barely a year. As at Chapter 1, he would have experienced fairly little failure on the seas since he's a top rookie, and as an older brother and 'protector' to Luffy, he would be maintaining a strong front. Even if he probably knew that he had little chance of beating Whitebeard, it must have been a great blow to his pride. Being out of his depth, his stubborness would have likely kicked in, causing him to constantly attack Whitebeard, as he refuses to accept his loss.

While Ace attempts to reclaim his position of strenght by beating Whitebeard, I would think that he would avoid his old crew once he has checked that they were safe and content. Thus, Chapter 2 expresses the concern he still has for the Spades pirates and their corresponding worry for him. Chapter 3 occurs somewhere around day 10, when Ace would have had some time for reflection after the events in chapter 2. He's probably slightly calmer here and more open to interactions with Whitebeard's crew.

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><p>Ace was, surprisingly, a morning person. Very few people knew of that fact and he tried to keep it that way. Just because he was wide awake, and perhaps even contented in the morning, did not mean that he welcomed people bothering him while he enjoyed the rare peace. Besides, as captain of the Spades pirates, it was his prerogative to shove most of the more irritating parts of captaincy to his first mate. Captains were not meant to arbitrage stupid rum-fueled fights. They did important captain-stuff like feasting, ensuring that the crew was merry and dragging everyone into fun fights.<p>

But he was no longer a captain.

Ace shoved off the melancholy threatening to creep up on him and headed for one of the places on the enemyship that had surprisingly became his haven. The sky was just taking on the soft blush of pre-dawn, and very few were awake. The ones unlucky enough to draw such an early watch stumbled as they carried out their duties, often clutching their heads with one hand in a fruitless attempt to ease their hangovers. It was disgustingly easy to slip past them all.

Still, it was with a soft sigh of relief that Ace slid the door to the kitchen closed. A bouquet of fragrances greeted him immediately. His insatiable stomach growled, causing him to smile sheepishly at the monster in charge of the domain.

"Ahaha… Hey, Blenheim." Whitebeard's 9th Division Commander was indeed a large and intimidating man. His height exceeded even that of the Captain's and his whole body bulged with muscles. The long raven braid reaching to his waist called to mind that of the famed Chuugoku warriors of old. The casual, grey open vest that he wore only served to reinforce the overall impression of a warrior as it displayed the numerous thin scars earned from years of battle.

Even so, it seemed surprisingly right to see him in the kitchen, skillfully flipping bacon in a monstrous skillet. Blenheim was one testosterone-pumped man who loved to cook and was not shy to admit it. Whitebeard probably needed a monstrous cook to feed his ceaselessly ravenous crew. Luckily for Ace, Blenheim was also a man who could be trusted to keep secrets.

"Hey, brat." The head chef called, even as Ace started to scrub efficiently at his hands. "Saw your flying lessons with the Captain yesterday. You sure love to get a beating, eh?"

Ace stuck out his tongue the older man. "I'll get him one day. I'm already working on a new idea… French toast today?" At the chef's nod, he eyed the industrial-sized carton of eggs and the large sack of bread and got to work. "What the hell did you do before I came anyway?"

Blenheim gave a negligent shrug. "Easy enough to grab one of the men to help. I just bash them up if they mess up my kitchen."He regarded Ace with a dastardly mischievous smile. "You do make things much more _efficient_, though. Who knew- Firefist Ace is actually surprisingly domestic."

Ace faked a cough about something along the lines of a pot and a kettle, and gave him the finger with the hand not occupied with the skillet.

"Hmph. Cocky brat." The problem with Blenheim, was that he was too much an old hand in the kitchen. Cooking a Western breakfast required barely any thought on his part, leaving his mind with room to wander and grow bored. And the man got _far _too curious once he started to know you a little. This was Ace's third day on the job, and he was thus doomed. "So, lil' spit-fire, when are you going to stop hiding?"

"I don't hide."

"Right… And what do you call sneaking into my kitchen to help cook breakfast, and often dinner too, while you pretend that you're not part of the crew?"

"It's called earning my keep." And to emphasize the fact, Ace filched a hashbrown directly from Blenheim's pan, taking care to make the most obscene sounds of pleasure as he daintily consumed the offering. His companion could not contain the snot of laughter at his antics. Unfortunately, he was as stubborn as a bulldog with a piece of meat once he found something that he wanted to root out.

"I call that stubborn and stupid. But I guess your constant fights with Oyajii and that battle with Jinbei already proved that, huh? You're a good kid, Ace. You just need someone to guide you. And lucky for you, you have a nice Nii-san right here."

"You mean Ojii-san, right?"

"Learn _respect, _brat. Here." Blenheim wiped down his hands. Despite the duo's banter, both had worked efficiently and with the ease of long practice. The breakfast preparations were done. He handed Ace a silver tray ladened with a bowl of soup and some wild flowers arranged in a small vase. "Make sure that the Captain finishes that."

His temporary sous-chef stared at him.

Blenheim sighed, forced the tray into Ace's hands and shoved the boy out of his kitchen. "You wanted to earn your keep. I'm helping you to do it."

The look on the boy's face was so betrayed and plaintive that Blenheim almost, _almost_ gave in. Damn, that boy was dangerous. Then, Ace's expression hardened. "You swore not to let anyone know that I'm working here."

"Yeah, and I haven't told anyone. You're a smart brat. Just tell Oyajii that I snatched you over to deliver that, and gave you some food in exchange or something. You can figure it out. Besides, this might even give you an idea of how to gain the slightest edge over Oyajii. If you're unbelievably lucky. Know your enemy and all that. Now stop whining." With a last shove, the brat was out of his kitchen and he slammed the door close.

Blenheim smiled to himself as he set the finishing touches on the breakfast meals. Good food had to both taste and look delicious. He would give the brat some time to sulk. Then he could find a good place from which to watch the drama. He idly mused about which brother might want to be called along. Thatch would definitely kill he left him out. And perhaps… Marco might make things interesting as well. Yes, the brat would definitely make a good addition to the Moby Dick.

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><p>He had been staring at that damn door for five whole minutes. Or rather, he had hidden himself in a convenient nook, and had been stealthily peering at the damn thing for five minutes. Had he not known above the old man's massive build and therefore the need for such an insanely big door, he would have sworn that the thing was built like that just to be intimidating. Well, the bastard architect had certainly achieved his purpose.<p>

Ace toyed with the flower arrangement on his tray (Blenheim had a surprisingly feminine side, really) idly as his contemplated his next course of action. Enter the room, and he would face his enemy as a glorified waiter. Go back to the kitchen, and he would be called a coward, if he was lucky.

Riley would laugh his head off if he saw Ace now. His Spades ex-crew would be no better. And all of them were wandering around the Moby Dick far too much and therefore had a high chance of discovering Ace in this predicament. Oh well, at least the lot of them had settled in relatively well. He had been keeping track of them surreptitiously.

No choice but to jump into the fire. With his logia, he could escape unscathed anyway, right? Right. Blenheim would _suffer _once he had the time to think of a good prank. With a last vicious glare at the heavy wooden door, Ace gave it two brisk raps with his knuckles. Since this was part of his job for Blenheim, he had to be _polite_. Stupid etiquette rules!

"Gurara! You're settling in well, brat." Whitebeard sat on a throne-like chair polishing his staff, a large sake jar beside him. He regarded Ace with an unnecessary amount of amusement as the boy stood before him, struggling not to fidget.

"Just drink the damn soup, geezer."

"And how do I know that you didn't poison it?" Whitebeard's eyes were too keen for someone who appeared so easy going most of the time.

"How dare you-" Ace barely restrained himself. He had to have patience, dammit. Small flames danced along his body as he struggled with his temper. With a flex of his will, they all extinguished in one brief moment. "I am not a coward, geezer. If I wanted to kill you, it would _not _be through poison. I swear that I will not attack you right now, if that means anything to you. Now, just finish that damn soup so I can leave."

"You won't attack me for now, hmm?" Whitebeard raised the bowl to his mouth. Cupped in his gigantic hand, even the large bowl appeared ridiculously tiny. Ace's eyes were riveted to his actions. Once the old man finished the damn soup, he could leave the room and get out of this ridiculous situation.

Just before the bowl touched Whitebeard's mouth, the man set the bowl down. "I don't like this soup." He stated simply, taking another swig of sake instead.

"You haven't even tasted it, old man!"

"Well, I don't feel like drinking it. Run over and ask Blenheim for more sake for me, boy."

"I am _not _a damn messenger boy!"

"'Just finish that damn soup so I can leave'… You promised Blenheim that you'd get me to drink the soup, didn't you?" Whitebeard was unfazed by the Glare of Doom that the young rookie directed at him. "Entertain me a little. Listen to 3 of my stories and I'll finish the soup."

Ace intensified his glare. But truly, there was little that he could do now, caught between a promise of a duty to Blenheim and one of non-aggression to Whitebeard. Fucking rules. He knew that he would regret deciding to adhere to that stupid concept of honor. And yet, after that talk with Makino, he knew how important it was for him to set a good example to Luffy. Stupid rules. He would kill Blenheim later. It would be a good practice before he attacked Whitebeard again.

"Whatever. Tell your stupid stories. Drink that damn soup. And then I'm out of here."

Whitebeard's wide grin was definitely an augury of _bad _things to come. "Well, come on, then." And so saying, he sat Ace on his lap. Caught off guard, and then held in the position by Whitebeard's legendary strength, there was nothing that the powerful rookie could do. He was trapped.

"You must be comfortably seated when listening to stories, you know. Now, why don't I tell you a tale of when Thatch and Marco were but little brats running around on the Moby Dick…" And to Ace's ultimate horror, the famed pirate pulled out a large photo album out of nowhere and started on his mentally traumatic tale. Okay, so the idiotic duo looked a little cute as kids –shit, his mind was already being brainwashed by the damn geezer!- but imagining Marco as a brat was just scary!

And then, as Whitebeard warmed up to his tale, Ace realized that he was going to be trapped there for a while. And this was only the first story! Blenheim was a dead man.

Little did Ace know, the three current banes of his existence were currently peeping through a small opening into their Oyajii's room, and had witnessed every second of his torment. With a quick hand signal, Thatch signaled for them to retreat.

That morning, the men were treated to the puzzling sight of Blenheim, Thatch and even Marco rolling around the deck and laughing uproariously. All three had but one thought in mind: Yes, Ace would definitely make life on board the Moby Dick _very _entertaining.

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><p>AN: Okay… I accidently made Whitebeard a closet sadist and a little of an Oya-baka. Please don't kill me! This might be an interesting direction to move towards, though. Not sure if I fulfilled this prompt of 'etiquette' very well… Feedback, please!<p> 


	4. The Concern of Brothers, prompt: wedding

Title: 4. The concern of brothers

Written for 30_onepiece (though I'm actually still waiting for official approval for this claim...), Set 7- Claim #13 wedding, 1,772 Words, Rating T (Just to be safe!)

Disclaimer: One Piece is not mine. -SIGH-

Author's note: Marco torture and pranks ahead. Hopefully, this is sufficiently humourous!

"Oh, come on! Pretty please?"

"No."

"But it's for his _birthday_. Don't you want him to have a nice surprise?"

"I doubt he'd see this as a nice surprise, Thatch." Firefist Ace paused for a moment in his attempt to escape from his shipmate (no, the guy was his enemy, damnit!) as he contemplated the likely outcomes of Thatch's insane proposal. "Oh, and I'm not suicidal either."

"With your still-ongoing daily assassination attempts on Oyajii, I really couldn't tell," was the droll reply. Ace ignored the statement since he knew the truth- the assassination attempts were simply a way for him to test out his opponent. Since Whitebeard afforded him free reign to try as many times as possible, he would be a fool not to take full advantage of the chance. He had been working on his latest masterpiece for a while, using smaller fights to test the old sadist out. He knew that he was close to succeeding.

"Come on! Think of this as a challenge. You have to be able to beat Marco to have a chance of succeeding against Oyajii, right?"

"An actual fight against the phoenix would be less dangerous than upsetting him _again _with a prank. And he's already in a bad mood these days for some stupid reason."

Thatch sighed, pouted, and attempted to convince Ace with puppy dog eyes. The young fireball only scoffed at him. Thatch's eyes blazed with determination as he played his winning hand.

"He called you a brat and kicked your ass last week. And he said that the Spades were only a bunch of kids playing pirates." Never mind that Marco had only been engaging in his own unique brand of friendly teasing. Thatch knew that Ace was still upset by the gibe. Already, the kid's body was stiffening with tension despite his attempts to remain uninterested. Thatch's eyes gleamed as he sensed his victory.

"I never figured you for a coward, Ace. If you're good enough, you wouldn't get caught, anyway. But I guess everyone quails before the phoenix…" Now, with luck and the kid's temper…

The smile that Ace shot him was deceptively sweet. "Aren't you the devil's advocate, Thatch? You did issue a valid challenge, but with the danger... I want the photos from The Incident as a reward when I succeed."

Damn, he forgot to account for the kid's overly clever brain. "Ahaha, you know that all pictures from that day were destroyed by Marco & Blenheim."

"So the rumours say. I _know _that you still have a hoard of photos."

Thatch did take some time to consider. The Incident was a taboo even on Whitebeard's prank-filled ship. If his brothers found out that he still had evidence from that day, he would be deader than dead. But he could _not _not have a good prank on Marco's birthday. And he _really _wanted to see what Ace was capable of…

"Okay, deal." Ah well, damn the consequences. He had survived till today, right? He would survive an enraged phoenix somehow. He could always hide behind Ace, or something. Marco seemed to have an unusually soft spot for the brat.

Ace's answering grin was wide and ominous. Thatch wondered idly if it portended doom for Marco, him, or the entire ship. Oh well, it would probably make things fun.

With that, the duo huddled together to begin their nefarious plotting.

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><p>Marco did not want to get out of his bed. Really, the crew could do without him for a day. He could just call in sick or something. How much trouble could it cause?<p>

A loud crash sounded outside his small cabin, followed quickly by a stream of shouts and clashes. Well, that answered his question. With a groan, he levered himself out of bed and got dressed reluctantly.

Very cautiously, the first division commander opened his door a crack, checking the top of the door, the hinges, and then the surrounding corridors before striding towards Oyajii's chair (no, it was not bolting for safety).

Whitebeard was in a wonderful mood. "Gurarara! Happy birthday, my son. Look a little happier!"

"I do not like my birthday." Marco muttered sullenly.

"Gurarara! Your brothers are just trying to show you their love!"

"I'd like to see you enjoy this if _you _were the focus of this 'love'. Give me a hint on this year's plot?"

"I wouldn't want to spoil all of my son's hardwork! Oh, want to have a Polo sweet? You need to keep your breath fresh and look handsome if you want to get a girl! Gurara, you've really grown up quickly, Marco!"

"Oyajii!" If he did not stop Whitebeard now, his Captain was bound to recount far too many embarrassing tales from his childhood. He did _not _want to give his crewmates any more ammunition for today. And the gleam in Whitebeard's eyes was starting to become very disturbing. Marco prayed fervently that his brothers had not somehow convinced Whitebeard to go along with this year's 'birthday surprise'.

"Gurara! Go and mingle with your brothers. You can't hide here for the whole day, Marco-chan."

With extreme reluctance, Marco decided to do his usual patrol of the ship. He was _not _afraid of Thatch's stupid pranks; just understandably cautious. His best friend always unleashed his greatest 'Masterpiece' on this day.

* * *

><p>Blenheim greeted him cheerfully when he slipped into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast.<p>

"Morning, birthday boy. Prepared a special breakfast for you!"

Marco examined the tray suspiciously. There was no way to guess when today's surprise would occur. And disastrously for his reputation, he had yet to successfully foil a birthday surprise to this day. This year, he _would _succeed.

"No, it's not spiked. Keep guessing. I included a Polo sweet. Got a whole stash in the last port and the crew love it. You could offer it to a girl at our next port!"

Marco gave his fellow commander a stiff nod and decided to have his breakfast on deck. He was starting to see a pattern. Were the Polo sweets spiked? Was it a stupid play on the whole Marco-Polo thing again? His vengeance had seemed vicious enough the last time. And surely Thatch was too proud of his 'creative genius' to repeat a prank. He would find a secure area to do some reconnaissance.

* * *

><p>It was as rowdy on board the deck as always. The only suspicious thing Marco could detect was the sudden prevalence of those stupid Polo sweets. His brothers were shouting for it and passing it everywhere as they performed their duties. And each time Marco caught their eyes while they were doing so, they all tended to smirk or beam at him before wishing him a happy birthday. He could feel his normally mild temper rise. What the hell was the damn prank?<p>

Marco directed his ire at where a few of the commanders were playing card with their men. The commanders were usually the ones who staged pranks against him. Probably too much proximity to Thatch's bad influence.

"Ha! Blackjack!" Izou celebrated his win with a swig of beer as he counted his winnings. "This will get me a nice new revolver when stop at port today. I've been eyeing that GR1000 for a while…" He noticed Marco's irate stare and smirked.

"Polo, anyone?" His fellow card-players looked around and spotted Marco. With identical smirks/ grins and chuckles, they accepted the sweets. The conversation then seemed to devolve into code.

"I think blonde hair, to match." Jozu said, as he made a disturbing through scan of Marco's body. "Eyes?"

"Black definitely, like our favourite brat." Maria, one of Izou's sharpshooters contributed with relish.

"Well, I think it's someone who needs protecting."

"No, someone strong is better!"

"I say that seductive would be best!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Izou smiled sweetly at Marco as he called a brief halt to the nonsensical conversation. "Let's consult! Oy, Fossa! Polo?" And the epidemic of sweet-offering and code-speaking swept across the deck.

When Whitebeard, upon being offered the damn sweet stated something about beauty with a hint of danger, Marco transformed and flew up to the crow's nest to get away from the madness.

* * *

><p>Hours later, when the Moby Dick finally swept into port, Marco was eager for escape from his crazy brethren. He had one scouting mission from Oyajii and then he was free for the day. Perhaps he had truly escaped his birthday surprise for the year. His inner Thatch patted him on the head and told him to keep deluding himself.<p>

The address he was given led him to a homey little complex with a flourishing garden. With his knowledge of the day's danger, Marco did not let the innocuous appearance lower his guard.

He slipped stealthily through the back door and right into an ambush.

* * *

><p>Later on, caught between far too many women with an astonishing variety of looks and personalities and with little chance for escape, he was handed a piece of paper.<p>

_"Dearest Marco!_

_Happy 21st birthday! Seeing that this is an important landmark in your life (You are now officially an adult! Though you always act far too old and grumpy anyway), we, your dearest brothers decided to make this event truly memorable for you. Oh, and Oyaji contributed too! _

_Hence, we present to you the result of The Polo Polls!_

_Throughout today, your caring brethren have been carefully discussing the type of women that would best suit you. This is signaled by the offer of a Polo sweet. (We shall not discuss the reasons for this signal due to the certain events from the past, but I'm sure you know the reason why!) _

_In a three-way tie, the winners are: a pretty but not too brainy blond, a sweet damsel, and a dominatrix (Apparantly, enough people think that you have dominating and/or masochistic tendencies! Hmm…) Votes for this poll will be kept highly confidential for safety reasons._

_So in conclusion, enjoy! There is really no need to thank us; we only want the best for you as your family. We'll be holding the actual birthday celebration at the Prancing Turkey tavern tonight. Don't worry, we can delay the celebration if you decide to hold your wedding!_

_Best of luck!_

_Your ever-loving brothers_

* * *

><p>That night, most of Whitebeard's crew and almost all of his commanders gained new and vicious wounds. Ace and the ex-Spades pirates intelligently made themselves scarce. They were later found aboard the Moby Dick, giggling over a photo album. The discovery led to a gleeful recounting of The Incident to the newest members of the crew, much to Blenheim's despair and Marco's rage.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Omake <strong>(Written thanks to **Hi Hikari No Kaze **who told me of Marco's estimated true age in the manga!):

"Yo, Ace!" Thatch leaned gingerly against the ship's rail beside Ace, grinning widely despite the numerous wounds on his body. "Help me with a little something?"

"I think I've helped you enough for a while." Ace grumbled, prodding at his own patchwork of bruises with a dark frown.

"Aww, where's your sense of fun and your love for adventure?"

"It was kicked out of me by an enraged phoenix, maybe?" How the hell had Marco beaten them up so easily? "How are you still moving after the beating he gave you?"

"Ah, Marco's usually soft on his brothers even when he's upset with us." Thatch ignored Ace's mutter on how he was probably beaten up worse since he wasn't part of the crew; Marco had gone easiest on the brat and had barely wounded him at all.

"Come on," Thatch wheedled, "I'll let you in on a little secret if you help me…" Ace continued to attempt to ignore him, but Thatch saw his eyes clouding over with consideration. The brat's curiousity was going to get him in deep trouble one day. But for now, Thatch would milk it for all it was worth. Seeing that he had hooked his prey, Thatch whipped out his personal present for Marco and hooked an arm over Ace's shoulder.

"So, our dearest First Commander didn't actually turn 21 today. It was actually his 41st birthday."

"_What!"_

"You see, Marco was a cute little brat –a mind boggling thought- running around the Moby Dick before you were even born. Not surprisingly, he was still a damn good warrior before he ate his Devil Fruit. He only became the Phoenix when he was 20, but there was an interesting side-effect- His body became eternally frozen at 20 to the amused delight of the crew. So, as a joke, we celebrate his 21st birthday for him every year. Even so, I think that it's important to remind him about how ancient he is, just to be helpful. You know, in case he suffers from memory loss due to old age and all..."

Ace was giving him his full attention now. His face was screwed up in an amusing display of horrified fascination.

"Now, want to help me to decorate our dear _old _brother's card?"

A few hours later, Marco returned to his bunk after a long night of educating his dear brothers on why pranks should _not _be played on him. Seeing Thatch's usual garishly-decorated birthday card on his bed, he flipped through it idly. Ace's surprisingly neat writing caught his eye from within the forest of Thatch's scrawls.

'I always knew there was a reason why you were such a wet blanket- You're _41? _Happy birthday, Grandpa. Don't overwork your ancient body, okay?'

Marco's enraged roar cut through the silence of the night.

* * *

><p>AN: I've no idea what happened during The Incident. Feel free to contribute ideas and I might try to write it out! Thank you to <strong>Wolfguide<strong> and **Hi Hikari No Kaze **for all your plot ideas. Hopfully, I'll be able to write some of them out soon!


	5. A Grandfather's Love, prompt: horror

Title: 5. A Grandfather's Love

Written for 30_onepiece (though I'm actually still waiting for official approval for this claim...), Set 7- Claim #25 horror, 1,390 Words, Rating T (Just to be safe!)

Disclaimer: If One Piece were mine, Ace would appear a lot more often. But oh well, he's the star of this fanfiction (even if I torture him a bit)!

Author's note: A heartfelt thank you to **Hi Hikari No Kaze **for being my beta, and for going the extra mile to edit my previous chapters as well. I've added an omake to chapter 4 due to her reminders on Marco's estimated true age in the manga, so do go and have a read!Thank you, also to everyone who reviewed. Writing a multi-chapter piece requires determination, and that is easier to muster when you know that there are people reading and appreciating your works. Hope you like this chapter!

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><p>Marco questioned him on it when it happened for the third time.<p>

"I never took you for a coward, brat."

"Shh! Either go away or get down!" Ace concentrated on hiding behind the flimsy cover of a cluster of crates. The old man always has the worst timing.

"Okay… What the hell is wrong with you?" Marco allowed himself to be pulled down behind the crates, fascinated by the combination of horror and panic on Ace's face.

"We're being attacked!"

"Yes?" A detached part of Marco's brain wondered if Ace had noticed his use of the word 'we' rather than 'they' but he left that aside in favour of the current emergency. Ace had always thrived on being on the frontlines of a battle. Even though he still refused to be part of their family, he always fought alongside them when they were attacked by the Navy or the rare pirate crews. He explained it off as being good exercise and took care to position himself near the ex-Spades crew to guard them against any harm. He had only hidden on two other occasions.

With great reluctance, the younger pirate elaborated on his statement. "We're being attacked by _him_." Marco observed with incredulous wonder as the boy unconsciously stuck his lower lip out slightly in a pout.

"Maa… So Vice-Admiral Garp scares you?" That was truly hard to believe from the boy who still made daily attacks on Whitebeard.

"Yes! No- Wait- Argh!" Ace ran a hand through his already mussed-up hair in frustration. The clarification, when it came, was muttered and barely audible. "Garp is my overly violent grandfather. Kinda."

"_What?_" Marco's exclamation of disbelief was loud enough to cut through all the chaotic noise of battle. Ace would have soaked up his comical expression at any other time. Now, however, he winced as all attention was focused in their direction in that moment.

Then, his death knell sounded.

"Ace!" The Firefist shivered, reflexively jumping into a battle-ready crouch.

He was too late.

"You damn brat!" A monstrous fist crashed down on his head, sending him to the floor and leaving the planks buckling beneath him.

"That hurt, you damn geezer!" The fist of flame that he sent towards Garp was easily side-stepped.

"Oh, so you learnt a few new tricks, huh?" The old man was now cracking his knuckles ominously and Ace had to force himself not to flee. His stupid childhood instincts were too ingrained into his core. He had grown stronger, though. Surely he could beat that old geezer by now.

"We're behind you, Ace." Riley's level tone settled his nerves. Ace's old Vice-Captain was already spinning his staff, a beautiful and sturdy wooden piece that was capped with iron on both ends. The rest of the old Spades was behind him, battle-ready.

"No. I'll settle this." It warmed his heart to see his crew's concern for him but this was not the time to address it. "Come on, you damn geezer, I'll beat you once and for all!"

"I'll beat some manners into you, brat!"

* * *

><p>Whitebeard's Sons were watching the fight with fascinated horror. Whitebeard looked on with an unholy amount of amusement. Garp's crew viewed it all with a resigned acceptance. All other fighting between the pirates and the Navy had ceased in the light of this new development.<p>

Ace lunged at Garp in the blink of an eye, body alight with flames to add to his speed and strength, only for his attack to be easily sidestepped. In the next second, his head was caught in Garp's massive palm and slammed onto the wood of the deck. He fought his way out of Garp's grip and rolled away just before a fist slammed down on the spot where he had just been. The Adam's wood cracked beneath Garp's fist.

"That's dangerous, damn geezer!" Ace had rolled to a crouch again, fists alight with fire.

"So _this _is why Captain always made us avoid Vice-Admiral Garp!" One of the ex-Spades pirates could be heard muttering in horror.

"Bwahaha! See, Ace, even your friends know that you'll lose. Surrender and join the Navy!"

"No way in hell! Oy, Riley, lend me your staff!" Ace handled the weapon with the ease of an expert, his childhood adventures having served to sear the movements into his muscle memory. "Prepare to go _down_, geezer!"

Ace swept forward, staff aimed unerringly at Garp's solar plexus. When Garp moved to chop down on the staff, Ace movements flowed smoothly as if he had planned it so all along, bringing him to Garp's unguarded back. The iron capped tip swung for the back of Garp's head. With a smirk, the Marine easily grabbed on to the staff when it was an inch from contact and sending it, together with his grandson, swinging into the sea.

"Shit!'

"Ace!"

Garp dusted off his hands casually, ignoring the shouts of horror going up around him.

"So, Newgate, how did you end up with my grandson?"

"Gurarara! I know you have some good sake on board, Garp. Let's catch up, for old time's sake."

"Bwahahaha! Sure, and then I'm beating some sense into that stupid grandson of mine and bringing him with me to join the Navy."

"I'd like to see you try with that stubborn brat!"

"He is a stubborn idiot, isn't he? But he's so cute, too! Why, when he was younger…"

Marco exchanged glances with Garp's long suffering Vice-Captain. They both shouted out similar instructions to their respective crew.

"We'll be having a truce for now! Everyone get back to your duties and stay the hell out of trouble!"

This did not stop them, or the Division Commanders of both crews, from moving to a close yet safe distance from which to listen to the stories of the two experienced devils.

* * *

><p>Namur hoisted Ace up onto the deck of the Moby Dick and into hell.<p>

Whitebeard and Garp were sitting on the deck, tossing back monstrous jugs of sake and swapping stories about _him_!

"So there he was barely able to move, his crew beaten badly, and he cut them off from me with a wall of fire, saying that he would stay and fight if I let them escape. That was such a cute sight!"

"Ah, I still think that he was cuter as a child! He used to try to protect his younger brother, Luffy, whenever I tried to train them. He would glare at me so fiercely as if that would get me to back down!"

The two men roared with laughter while Ace blushed to the roots of his hair. Both Whitebeard's and Garp's Commanders were regarding him with pity. Just how much had those two revealed?

"Enough!" He stormed between them, slamming the two raised jugs of sake to the deck. "Stop telling those stupid stories about me!"

"You rude brat!" Garp raised a Fist of Love, only to be stopped by Whitebeard's palm.

"Okay, no more stories."

Ace regarded the two with suspicion. He was, unfortunately for him, proven right.

Whitebeard pulled a thick album out of nowhere. "Want to swap photos instead, Garp?"

"Oh!" Garp pulled out his wallet, a long line of photos falling out from within. "I have some really adorable ones here! I know that there's one with him in diapers somewhere…"

Marco pulled Ace away from the duo pityingly before he could incite them into violence once again.

* * *

><p>"Ace, give your grandfather a hug!" Ace took a large step back, only to be pulled into a bone crushing hug anyway. A mini den den mushi was then shoved into his hands before Garp stepped back reluctantly. "I expect weekly calls from you, or else!"<p>

Then the menace was back on his ship and waving farewell to Whitebeard. The two geezers got along too well for people who were supposedly sworn enemies.

"There's really no way for you to beat them, you know?" Marco commented softly by his side. "Oyajii and Garp have been around for ages. They were even friends with the Pirate King."

"I don't need your pity!" Marco received a glare for his efforts.

That night, and the entire day after that, Ace sulked (ehem, brooded) in a corner of the ship. After that, he threw himself into training and more assassination attempts with even greater zeal than before.

* * *

><p>AN: Aww, I feel kinda sorry for torturing Ace so much here. But I do really like Garp. Let's see if I can fit him in a little more, later. If anyone has any ideas on how I can do so, please tell me your ideas in a review!<p> 


	6. Baptism of Fire

Title: 6. Baptism of Fire

Written for 30_onepiece, Set 7- Claim #2 second chance, 1,680 Words, Rating T (Just to be safe!)

Disclaimer: If One Piece were mine, this would happen in the manga and Ace _would not have died_!

AN: Sorry for the long break in updates. School has been rather overwhelming lately. That partly explains why I'm "cheating" in this post- This definitely skips the chronological order that I was trying to maintain before. Today's chapter is a slighly more angst-y one skipping to the events of the Marineford arc. This chapter was, in a sense, what got me to write this story in the first place- I wanted to create a plot where Ace wouldn't be killed off just to be a plot device. This is a little awkwardly written and somewhat short, so I'd really appreciate feedback on how to better the piece. Read & review!

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><p>A warm, bloody wrongness splattered across his frozen body, anointing him in his first true baptism in the horrors of battle. Mechanically, his head turned to confirm the nightmare. Marco stood between him and Akainu, a magma-encased fist that was his to bear –his to finally protect Luffy from- speared through Marco's body. The kairoseki handcuffs clasped over Marco's right wrist swung in the air, tormenting him with the knowledge that even the phoenix was not always invincible. Just beyond Marco stood Whitebeard, body pieced by unimaginable numbers of weapons and bullets. This was on his head. He was weak and his <em>family<em> paid the price.

In that moment, Ace died. Perhaps he lied; surely his heart did not truly stop, though every part of him felt as if it did so. A seeming eternity passed as the battlefield fell eerily silent.

"NO!" The scream, twisted by raw and primal desperation, broke the tableau. It took him a while to realize that he was the one who uttered it. The pain in his throat aided in that discovery. Then, anger flowered up above the pain. He embraced the blossoming rage, knowing that it was better than utter despair. With an animalistic howl, he sent forth a wave of _Haou Haki, _felling more than half the combatants near him, friend and foe. Despite his weariness, his loyal flame rose to his call, and he nurtured it, knowing that it would allow him to obliterate his enemy.

"Ace-" Luffy's voice, weak as it was, drew back the thinnest thread of his sanity. It was insufficient. Ace glanced back at his precious, _injured _brother for only a split second before giving into the siren call of vengeance.

"Ace. Control!" Marco's voice, matter-of-fact still in the face of overwhelming pain, jerked him back from the edge.

"Marco-" Marco was still alive! All thoughts of the fight now forgotten, Ace slid to his knees next to his friend.

"Sorry. I'm sorry! My fault... I'll do better. Please..." The fact that Marco was still alive to berate him was miraculous, considering the gaping hole in his stomach. He would do whatever it took to help him survive this battle.

"_Baka_. Now, G-Get this... damn thing... off." Marco hacked up blood, extinguishing all of Ace's flames with the sudden chill of fear.

* * *

><p>Something in Edward Newgate broke as he witnessed one son fall and another go berserker. He knew, however, that this opportunity would not come again. With a massive haul on his power over the earth, the plaza cleaved into two. He watched Akainugrimly from across the great canyon that he had created, positioned still as a shield for his men.<p>

"Whitebeard pirates! This is my final order! You will all part with me here! Live… And safely return to the New World! Vista, take command now!" The battlefield once more erupted into noise as those left standing after Ace's release of his _Haki _rallied to their causes.

Vista did not suppress his tears even as he screamed commands to Whitebeard's forces. Haruta struggled to pick the lock on Marco's handcuff even as Brenheim and Rakuyo carried Joz and Luffy back to the getaway ship. All around him, the division commanders supervised the preparatory work for the ship's launch as tears streamed down their faces. All of them knew that Whitebeard held the line for their withdrawal by force of will alone.

Portgas D Ace had never felt so helpless in his life. One of his brothers was working on Marco's kairoseki cuffs in a race against time. The Phoenix was smirking at him and his stupid fear. But Ace could literarly see the life bleeding out of him. Marco might be immortal as the Phoenix, but now he was only a man.

Whitebeard's booming voice prompted him to survey the battlefield dazedly.

Blood. All he could see was blood, destruction and death. Oars Jr lay far too still, his long life sacrificed for a foolish brat. Jozu was thrown over Blenheim, his right arm severed. _Oyajii _was badly surreally wounded; he was invincible and never supposed to bleed.

Ace knew that his mind was breaking but he did not care enough to stop it.

"Ace. Son." His father's voice drew him back from the brink. "Head for the ship-"

A bullet slammed into Whitebeard's shoulders. High up on the parapets, Blackbeard cackled. His snipper smirked in satisfaction.

"This is the strongest man alive? It's time for you to step down, Whitebeard."

Ace saw red. Somehow, he had disintegrated into flames and flared over to Whitebeard's side in time. With a massive flare of _Haou Haki_, he sent the bastards attacking his father flying back. The hand that he had set on his father's side to mark him as a friend to his _Haki _now served as a support as he struggled not to collapse.

"Oyajii… Are you- Are you fine?" He fumbled out the words.

"Better that you, foolish brat."

"Oyajii!" Vista rushed up to them, Blamenco and Rakuyo not far behind him. "Blenheim is taking care of the retreat with the others. We'll hold the Navy and that bastard Teach off here."

Vista positioned himself slightly before them, allowing them to take a brief break as he took up their defence. Even as he made his report, he fended off more of Blackbeard's crew with two massive swipes of his twin swords.

"Can you still fight, Ace?" Vista asked, the question an unjudgemental one meant only to guage his strength and plot the group's strategy for survival. Vista was a terrifying strategist when he was angered enough to care for it.

"Yes. I'm functional."Ace growled out the words as he glared at Blackbeard. This time, however, the presence of his family steadied him and he was not lost to his rage.

* * *

><p>Ace could remember little of the fight that broke out afterwards. Blackbeard, the slimeball, had sided with the Navy, claiming that he was reporting for his duties as a Shichibukai. The gleam in his eyes, however, told a story of his far greater ambitions. All Ace could recall was pain, the darkness of unconciousness constantly trying to drag him down and the echos of a naïve Navy cadet calling for the meaningless fight to end.<p>

He was unsurprised when Akainu acted to kill off the wise words innocence. He hurt for the boy, knowing that he would be yet another casualty of the war, but he could not get to the boy's side in time. Perhaps he was too jaded to care that much as well. He only wanted to protect his family now.

The sword that blocked the attack and its red-haired wielder were a breath of hope to their struggling group.

"Some times the youngest amoungst us are also the wisest." Red-Haired Shanks' voice rang clearly over the battlefield. "There have been heavy casualties on both sides. If you continue, you will only cause more to die. But if you still wish to fight, my crew and I will face you."

Not a sound could be heard as everyone awaited Sengoku's decision.

The Fleet Admiral surveyed his chessboard. The Shichibukai had fallen into chaos. Mihawk had left the battlefield, refusing to fight his old friend. Boa Hancock appeared to be on the brink of turning traitor. Many of the others were grievously injured. Though Whitebeard's allies appeared no better off, Shank's arrival had shifted the tide of the battle. His crew was capable and their presence brought hope to the opponents and despair to the Navy officers. Few were convinced that they could take on _two _of the famed Yonkou.

Sengoku applauded Shanks' strategy even if he cursed the infuriating man's timing. He brought the situation to an acceptable end.

"We have faced down the might of the Strongest Man and emerged uncowed. Take your allies with you, Red-Haired, but they might not survive the journey. This war is ended." Noticing the Akainu about to protest, he concluded his speech with firm resolution. "I will bear this responsibility."

As Ben Beckman approached their group to aid them in their retreat, Ace finally allowed himself to succumb to the darkness.

* * *

><p>Ace awoke in his old, familiar room on board the Moby Dick and immediately ordered himself back to sleep. The Moby Dick had been destroyed in that damn war so obviously this was a dream.<p>

"No cheating, Ace. Everyone has been waiting for you to wake." Blenheim's voice cut through his plans for slumber.

"This's a dream. Ship destroyed. Go 'way." His voice sounded embarrassingly weak and petulant but that was fine since this was a dream.

"No, the ship that was destroyed was the First Division's ship. Moby Dick was our escape boat. Everyone's recovering and Red-Haired is on board. But otherwise, we're fine."

"Luffy! Oyajii! Marco! How-"

"They're out of danger. Oyajii's Scary Nurse Troop jumped into action once we were out of Marineford. Red-Haired's sharing his doctor as well. You, on the other hand..."

Ace almost stopped struggling from his bed at the sight of Blenheim's ferocious glare. Then, he thought of his beloved father and two brothers who were still ill and moved with even greater enthusiasm. Blenheim held the glare for a few more seconds before scooping him up from bed with a resigned sigh.

"Your heart stopped just after Beckman reached your group. Vista's accusing you of turning his hair white. You pushed yourself way over your limit, brat."

Ace cried when Blenheim brought them up onto the deck.

His sworn brothers sat in groups bandaging their wounds. Others struggled to sail the massive ship even was they worked around serious injuries. He had somehow been given a second chance but it had not come without a cost. And this time, the price had been his family's blood.

Then, Blenheim brought him into the doctor's room. Luffy, Marco and Whitebeard looked over at him with wide beams. "Ace!" His name escaped their lips with unmeasurable relief and delight.

And Ace mused that perhaps, just this once, he could be selfish and appreciate this second chance.


End file.
